


Awakening

by Book_Dragon



Category: Supernatural, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Child Neglect, Discrimination, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Gendered Insults because Dean, Implied alchoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Mutant Dean Winchester, Mutant Phobia, Mutant Sam Winchester, Neglect, child endangerment, implied starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 15:44:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_Dragon/pseuds/Book_Dragon
Summary: “You might not have noticed it, if it’s something innocuous, something that you’ve just become used to.” Xavier says, and Dean’s pretty sure that he would have noticed if he had some freaky powers.





	Awakening

When Dean is 13 he gets a headache. It’s the fourth day that he and Sammy have been stuck in this motel room and they’re starting to run out of food. He’s just debating on whether it’s riskier to leave Sammy in the room or to go out together when the headache hits hard. Suddenly he’s doubled over and screaming, every sense whited out with a blinding, terrible pain. He can’t keep track of his surroundings. All he gets are flashes: Sammy’s young, panicked voice unintelligible over the roaring in Dean’s ears, the texture of the carpet underneath his right hand, the creaking of the motel pipes in the bathroom, and his Father’s voice, tinny over the phone: “Sammy? What? Are you all right?” and _Sorry, sorry Dad, didn’t mean to. I can still take care of Sammy, sorry...._

He loses track after that and knows nothing more for the next two days. He wakes up hungry early on the third, feeling almost entirely better, and finds that there’s no food and that Sammy’s not eaten for a day and a half. At which point his father returns home and gives him a worried once over and a reaming for being irresponsible.

***

A few months after The Headache, the stove breaks in another dingy motel. Dean’s a little desperate because they _do not_ have the funds for take-out, and how is he going to cook them dinner if the stove’s broken? Dad won’t be back for another week at least, so Dean curses and kicks the thing. 

“C’mon you piece of junk! Please work? Pretty please with sugar on top?” He jiggles the temperature gage for the element he’s attempting to use.

“What’s wrong?” Sammy asks from one of the beds behind him.

“Nothing’s wrong, because the stove’s going to work, aren’t you dude?”

“Did you just call the stove dude?” Sammy asks, but Dean is saved from answering by an audible clank from inside the stove and the element starts heating up. Dean yells a victory cry and makes them dinner. He whispers a soft thank you when Sammy can’t hear.

***

When Dean is 14 he starts making fake IDs for his dad. He’s a natural and an expert hacker and he makes enough of a background identity that they have yet to be caught out as fakes. Dad brings home stolen IDs from victims and cops and doctors, and Dean works his magic and turns his father into whatever John wants. Dad calls Dean a “Natural Born Criminal” and looks at Dean with a mixture of greedy speculation and chagrin. Sammy is 10 and is highly disapproving of this talent of Dean’s. He’s even more disapproving when Dean figures out that it applies to all kinds of forgeries.

***

When Dean is 15 he’s starting to think that the Impala might become his at some point. When he hints at it Dad doesn’t dispute him outright, so he figures that that’s tacit permission to keep hoping. The Impala has always felt like home to Dean. To Sammy too, somewhat (even though he’s always dreamed of white picket-fence suburbia), but to Dean the Impala’s always been a constant. And that’s always been important. He often feels like the car is another member of the family, one that has protected them, and sheltered them, and watched them grow. 

At 15 Dean stops talking about the Impala in a home-sense, and starts taking about her in a family-sense. It’s a couple of months after that that Sammy starts speaking the same way.

***

Dean is 16 and the Impala is officially his. All sleek lines and gleaming colour and rumbling growl. She purrs for Dean and runs better than she ever has before. Dean’s so deliriously happy about this show of trust from his father that he doesn’t even mind going to school while their Dad’s out on a Hunt, especially since he can now drive himself and can pick up a little action in the Impala during breaks. He’s the only one that’s happy though. He and Sammy are in their sixth school this semester and Sammy’s been a Cranky Bitch all week. It hasn’t helped that the kid’s been getting nightmares. Poor kid’s 12 and already getting teenage-moody and while he’s never actually been on a real hunt before, he’s known about the supernatural since he was 8, and now here they are dealing with night after night of Sammy screaming himself awake. Dean’s not sure why they’ve started now, can’t think of anything in particular that’s happened that might have triggered it. Sammy doesn’t even seem to remember them that well, just talking vaguely about blood and death when Dean asks. 

So basically he’s tired and on edge and he’s been getting headaches and he’s in “yet _another_ school Dean! God! I don’t _wanna_ be the new kid again. Do you think we’ll be able to stay here a while Dean? Do you think we can stay?” And Dean’s getting frustrated himself trying to deal with him with minimal blowouts. 

“Hey Sammy!” Dean calls across the parking lot when he spots his baby brother coming out of the school. Kid looks tired and weary, and he’s got that crease in his forehead that says he’s got a headache again. Dean’s got Advil on standby. 

“You even go to class?” Sam asks petulantly when he reaches them. 

“Sure. Just not the last one.” Dean answers, watches Sammy’s face twist up into disapproving-bitch-face, “Relax squirt, got out early on account of it’s computers and I’m better’n the teacher.” Dean smirks and gives Sammy’s head a duck-rub. “Let’s get going.” 

They slide into the car, Sammy tossing his pack into the backseat. 

“Hey Baby,” Dean croons as he starts the ignition, “ready to head home?” The Impala purrs for him and he swings out of the parking lot towards their current abode—a crappy little apartment with cracked walls and warped floors. He sees Sammy offer a tight smile to the air and run his fingers over the dash briefly, because no matter what, you treat the car right. It’s one of Dean’s rules. The rumble of the Impala’s engine seems to deepen for a moment.

***

Sammy’s doing homework later and Dean’s bored. He spreads himself out on the couch in a sprawl of loose limbs and lolls his head off the edge to look at Sammy upside down.

“Hey Sammy, wanna watch TV with me?” 

“No.”

“Wanna go for a run?”

“No.”

“Clean guns?” 

“ _No._ ”

“Take off our shirts, paint our chests different colours and run around the apartment singing your girly music?”

“ _God! Dean,_ I’m doing _homework._ ” Sammy protests, squinting at his brother like he can’t believe they’re related.

“Yeah, I can see that genius, I was wondering if you wanted to take a break.”

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon Sammy, it’ll be fun. You need to relax some.” Dean rolls himself off the couch and pads over to the table where Sammy’s got his homework spread out.

“I need to do this. I’ve gotten behind some ‘cause I haven’t been sleeping great, and I have to keep ahead anyways because you never know when Dad’s going to come back and spring another insane all-day training frenzy at us.” Sammy’s scowling at the papers in front of him and Dean pulls back a little to eye the kid. This argument has only gotten worse during Sammy’s bad mood. He gives a huff of exasperation.

“C’mon Sam, you know those training sessions are important. Dad’s just trying to prepare us, to keep us safe.”

“Safe would be _away_ from all this! Not having us running at it! He’s preparing us to be soldiers!”

Dean glowers at his brother. “Knock it off Sammy,” he says in a dark voice.

“NO!” Sammy screams and rockets up from his chair and Dean’s so startled that he stumbles back half a step. “I WON”T! This isn’t _safe_! It isn’t _normal_! And it’s going to get us all _KILLED_!” And on the last word the table, the chair, and most of the furniture in the room go scrapping across the floor away from the two boys. There’s silence after that.

***

“C’mon Dean! What _else_ could it be?!”

“I don’t know, but you’re not a mutant!”

“We’ve tested for everything else!”

Dean is 16 and seriously considering the possibility that his baby brother is a mutant. After Sammy’d thrown everything across the room _with his mind_ —and isn’t that a freaky thought—they’d tested him for everything supernatural they could think of. Had even done some research to find anything they’d missed. Nothing reacted. Sammy was perfectly human... Except that he could move stuff with his mind.

“I - I mean, what else could it be Dean? And why would I be helping you if I was some kind of creature or was possessed? I - I mean it’s the only thing that makes sense right? That I - that I’m a mutant.”

Dad had never been too clear about his feelings about mutants. He’d never put up any blatant support for any of the anti-mutant organizations they’d come across and he certainly didn’t hunt them like some Hunters had started doing, but he never considered them quite human either. Not quite human and his little brother. His Baby Brother, his Little Sammy.

“Dean?” Sammy sounds scared now.

“Yeah,” Dean answers gruffly, “yeah, it’s the only thing that makes sense. I think you’re - you’re probably a mutant.” They sit and digest that quietly for a moment. 

“Dean? What am I gonna do? About Dad…” Dean winces. 

“We’ll figure something out Sammy.” He gathers his little brother up in his arms on the couch, completely disregarding his own rules about chick-flick moments. “We’ll figure something out. It’ll be ok.”

***

Dad comes back and things go back to normal for a couple of weeks. They don’t mention anything about Sammy’s powers.

***

It’s two weeks before, in another life, Dean would have made his first kill and accepted the Hunting life as his own, when everything changes. Again.

Dean’s 16 and Sammy’s 12 and they’ve just learnt that Sammy has some freaky mind powers a couple of weeks ago. They’ve officially been in this town for the longest amount of time they’ve stayed anywhere since Dean was 12. Sammy’s made a sort-of friend or two, Dean’s hooked up with most of the girls and some (entirely in secret) of the guys, and they’ve even put up a poster or two. Dean generally frowns on this sort of _decorating_ behaviour—mostly because their Dad disapproves (“Gotta be ready to move boys. Can’t get too attached.”)—but Sammy’s been feeling despondent and scared since they discovered the whole _mutant_ thing, and he figures the kid really needs a little dose of “normal.”

Their Dad has taken over the table with his current research—a series of disappearances a couple of hours away. Dean and Sammy are playing cards quietly trying not to disturb their Dad so that they won’t get kicked out of the apartment to go train or amuse themselves. It’s raining outside.

They’re all a little startled by the knock at the door.

“Dean. Get the door,” is Dad’s gruff order as he tidies the table up to hide his research from prying eyes. Dean gets up and jogs over to the door, checking that the salt line is unbroken and invisible where it’s wedged between the doormat and the frame, and takes a quick peak through the peep hole. Seem human. Dean opens the door up and there are two people on the other side (people he recognizes vaguely but can’t remember why): A man in a wheelchair and a dude wearing red sunglasses. Dad comes back into the room just as Dean’s about to ask them who they are. Sammy’s unusually quiet behind him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dad demands. _Huh, guess they know each other then?_

“Mr. Winchester I presume? Hello, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” Dad interrupts, and maybe Dean should get out of the way, because Dad’s stalking forward like an angry panther and he’s got no orders for Dean. On the other hand, if these guys have Dad all riled up, maybe Dean should be looking for ways to protect his family. “I’ve seen you at pro-mutant info seminars. You’re a mutant.” And _Oh. That makes sense._ And _Oh God, why are they here?_ “Rumor has it you run a school.” Dad says _school_ like he’s skeptical, there’s a hint of disgust in there that tightens Dean’s gut in panic.

“You are very well informed Mr. Winchester.” The man in the wheelchair says amicably. “May we come in?” He looks over at Dean who starts a little— _Damn it Dean, pay attention! You can’t just lose track of your surroundings like that. That’ll get us all killed!_ —and looks over at Dad for instructions. He catches sight of Sammy as he does and his stomach clenches; the kid looks pale and shaky. 

“What do you want?” Dad demands and moves to replace Dean in the doorway. Dean moves gratefully aside. But he sees it coming on the man’s face, realizes in a moment that they’re about to be exposed. This man runs a school. He’s come to take Sammy away. Though how he even knows that Sammy’s a mutant and where to find him is a whole other question. Dean supposes it’s just some freaky mutant thing. But that’s not important now. What’s important is that Sammy’s about to be exposed as a mutant to their not quite mutant hating father and then he’s going to be taken away and Dean’ll never see him again 

“It’s about your sons.” 

and how’s he supposed to protect him—

Wait.

Sons? Plural?

Wait. What?

***

“Explain.” Dad demands. Sammy and Dean are sitting on the couch facing the man in the wheelchair (Xavier, and yeah, Dean definitely remembers who he is now from the research they’d done on mutants) across from them with his friend, Scott Summers, sitting in a chair beside him. Dad’s standing, looming over them all with a threatening air that has Sammy leaning heavy into Dean’s side.

“Well, you or your boys might have noticed—”

“I don’t have powers.” Dean interrupts, because yeah, this isn’t happening. Xavier looks at him in a very unnerving way that makes Dean think he can see inside his head. Maybe he can. 

“You might not have noticed it, if it’s something innocuous, something that you’ve just become used to.” Xavier says, and Dean’s pretty sure that he would have noticed if he had some freaky powers. He has been trained to notice these things after all, and if he really does and really hasn’t then he’s a worse screwup than he thought and Dad’ll be so disappointed. Dean’s not sure what will be worse according to Dad, that Dean’s a mutant, or that he’s so unobservant that he hadn’t even noticed. Dad growls.

“My kids aren’t mutants.” And Sammy flinches a little at Dean’s side.

“I hate to contradict you, Mr. Winchester, but they are. And that’s not a bad thing. It can be an incredible gift. I assure you, I have ways of telling. I hadn’t been able to pinpoint Dean’s location until now, but now that Samuel has awakened his mutation as well...” And now that they’ve stayed in one place for a while, Dean adds mentally. Dad turns to face them, expression dark.

“Boys.” And it’s an order. Dean sits up straight on the couch and Sammy, wincing, does the same. 

“Sammy has displayed some telekinesis.” Dean says, trying to keep it technical and accessible, trying to keep it in the realm of the supernatural: psychic, not mutant. Dad’s ok with psychic. He’s even worked with some. “We did our research,” Dean continues, hinting that they’d followed all supernatural procedure, “and it was the only thing that made sense.” Dad’s face is even darker now. 

“And when were you going to tell me about this Dean?” Dean has no idea how to answer that.

“In fairness to Dean, it can be difficult for many youngsters to come out to their families.” Xavier adds. Dad doesn’t look like his issues with this breach of obedience is over (the look he gives Dean and Sammy promises much punishment), but he drops it for now.

“And you’re here to take them to a school.” Both men nod.

“It’s a school for gifted youngsters. Mr. Summers here is one of our teachers.” Xavier says with a small gesture to the sunglasses wearing young man. He nods a smile at them. “Some powers and mutations can be difficult to manage on their own. This school provides a safe space to learn and grow, to learn how to handle their powers and get a quality education at the same time.” Despite everything about the situation being a tense one, Dean feels Sammy perk up a little at that, the big nerd.

***

Dean is 16 and has just found out that he’s a mutant. He and Sammy are curled up in a bed together that night and Dad’s gone out to drink, leaving orders to _not leave under any circumstances._ Dean’s pretty sure they’re in trouble for hiding Sammy’s powers. Dad hasn’t spoken to them since Xavier and Mr. Summers left hours ago with the promise to be around for the next couple of days while the family digests this and decides what to do.

Sammy wants to go, Dean’s pretty sure. He’s just finished having a meltdown about how now he’s a _born freak_ and how he’ll _never be normal_ and “why did this happen to us Dean?”, but Dean’s pretty sure he wants to go. At least at the school Sammy’d get the education he so desires, will have the stability he’s always craved (that Dean’s always wished he could give him), will be around others like him. It hasn’t really settled in for Dean that Dean’s like them too. He’s really not sure how he feels about this or what he should do. On the one hand, it’s his job to take care of Sammy, and if Sammy goes shouldn’t he go too if he can? On the other, his Dad needs him too. And there’s the job, and Dean’s been training to be a Hunter since he was 5. It seems like desertion to leave the Winchester mission. Some days Dean feels like maybe Sammy’s a little selfish for wanting something different, even though Dean’d give almost anything to give it to him on others. But which feeling is _right_? Will Sammy (and himself, his brain adds) even be safe in the Hunting life now? Some Hunters _hunt_ mutants. Dean supposes that it might be more dangerous to declare themselves mutants by going to the school than it would be to keep it hidden, but what if (they) lose control? Sammy’s already done it once, and Dean’s not even sure what his power _is_. Dean’s just so very confused.

“Dean?” Sammy asks from behind him. They’d pushed the bed up against the wall, and now Dean’s the little spoon in this pile, facing the doorway with a weapon on hand. Anything wants Sammy it’ll have to go through Dean first.

“Yeah?” Dean asks.

“What do you suppose your power is?”

“Dunno.”

“I guess it has something to do with The Headache huh?” At this point, Dean remembers The Headache as “That Time I Let A Stupid Headache Let Sammy Go Hungry For Two Days”, and Sammy remembers it as “That Time Dean Almost Died Because He’s Pretty Sure He Stopped Breathing A Couple Of Times And Holy Crap Where The Fuck Is Dad?!”, it was a lot of swearing for a 9 year old but while Sam didn’t generally cuss much, he’d grown up around Hunters. Dean’s not sure if Dad remembers it at all.

“I guess so.” There’s a shadow on the bedroom door from the tree branches outside the window. Dean’s tracking them to make sure they’re just branches. The apartment is very quiet.

“You’re very good with computers.” Sammy says, and Dean’s not sure he follows this logic.

“Come again Samsquach?”

“You’re really good with computers. I mean more than usual. And not just the programing or hacking or whatever, but they actually seem to run better for you.” It’d always annoyed Sammy when they were at some back-water library and Dean was the only one who could get any of the ancient machines to work. Dean smirks a little. “Maybe that’s your power, maybe you can talk to machines.”

“Maybe.” They’re quiet for a moment, Dean listening intently to the sounds of the apartment to make sure their Dad hadn’t come back yet, and then catches himself and gives his head a brief shake. Their Dad’s not a threat.

“Dean?” 

“Hmm?”

“What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know Sammy.”

***

In the morning Dad’s pretty hungover and Dean treads carefully around him to the kitchen, makes John a small dose of Winchester Special Hangover Remedy and sets it on the table. His father doesn’t even look up.

“Dad?” Sammy asks in a small voice from the bedroom door. His hair is sleep mussed, sticking up every which way, making him look even younger than he is. Dad grunts quietly and hunches over the table a little more, but he takes a sip of the WiSH-R and after a moment turns to look at the younger boy.

“Yeah, Sammy.” And God, Dad sounds tired. Like he’s grieving. Sammy pads his way across the floor to stand in front of their father.

“What’s gonna happen?” Dad’s eyes slide past Sammy to look out across the living room and doesn’t answer. After a moment’s silence Sammy prompts again, “Dad?”

Dean goes to distract him, “Sammy,” but Sammy’s gone from scared kid to frustrated almost-teen in a matter of moments.

“No.” Sammy says, stubborn. “I wanna know what he thinks.” Dad’s eyebrows are drawing together in the way that means that they’re not living up to expectations or are dangerously close to disobedience. 

“Not now, Sam. Dean, make us some breakfast.” Dean shifts from foot to foot, glancing between his father and brother for a fraction of a moment before he turns to obey.

“Yes now, Dad! Aren’t you supposed to be the plan guy? Don’t you usually have all the answers?” and Dean freezes in the process of getting some eggs out of the fridge.

“You’re the school kid with all the opinions Sammy, why don’t you tell me?” Dad asks sarcastically. _Don’t Sammy_ , is all Dean can think as he sets the eggs carefully on the counter.

“You’re our father! You’re supposed to fix this!”

“Well I can’t!” Dad bellows, “I can’t fix you!” Dean feels his insides crystalize, sees it happen in the mirror of Sammy’s face. He wants to curl up into a ball of shame and never come out again.

“There’s nothing wrong with us Dad.” Sammy says very quietly, and Dean’s pretty sure that Sammy’s just come to that conclusion now to be contrary because Dean’s pretty sure that there’s a lot wrong with them. Fortunately or unfortunately, Sam will now stick with that pretense. In public at least. Sammy’s like Dad that way, he’ll bring his convictions with him to the grave, and the best way to ensure that is to try to push him the opposite way. Dad slumps completely to the table. After a moment’s tense silence Sammy sits down as well. Dean busies himself with making breakfast.

***

“Alright, let’s see this,” Dad says, and Sammy stares at a plastic water bottle until it wobbles.

Dad goes out drinking again.

***

Dean’s pretty sure that Dad’s called Pastor Jim for advice because Dad walks around with guilty-thoughtful face for a couple of hours. Dean wonders what the advice was.

***

Sammy’s getting frustrated, as if Dad not accepting that his only two kids are mutants a couple of days after finding out is some fantastic feat of parental failure. Dean’s not sure _he_ accepts it. He explains this to Sammy.

“He’s our Dad, Dean, he’s supposed to love us no matter what.” Dean can’t argue with that.

***

Dad’s taken to alternatively talking about their Mom, about getting the son of a bitch that got her and leafing through the pamphlets Xavier left, muttering to himself quietly as he reads. Dad hasn’t been this bad since about a year after Mom died. Dean wishes he could leave the apartment, pretends he doesn’t miss talking to his Baby with an aching fierceness.

***

“Alright, you two are going to that school. But you go, you don’t come back.” Dean’s feeling a desperate panic clawing at his throat. After several days of muttering and opinion swinging and arguments and guilting and staring at his boys intently for long periods of time, Dad’s finally made his decision. Apparently, it’s to disown them. Dean is a terrible disappointment for be born a mutant.

“Dad...” This can’t be happening. Sammy’s face is as still as stone but his body is trembling. 

“No Dean. You can’t Hunt and be a mutant.” Dean wants to laugh hysterically—can feel it bubbling up in his chest—he says that like it’s a choice, like Dean’s chosen to be a mutant over the Hunt. God, Dean doesn’t even know what his power _is_! This can’t be happening. “You’ll be a liability and if you lose control and hurt someone? Or mess up a hunt? Could get us all killed.”

“Of course you’re abandoning us.” Sammy mutters and Dean kinda wants to strangle him.

“What was that Sam?” Dad wheels around to face Sammy and Dean has to step in between them.

“I said ‘of course you’re abandoning us,’ you’re gone so often, I’m not even sure why I’m surprised.” Dean wonders where in the _Hell_ Sammy had gotten his head from. They were taught better than this. Dad grits his teeth but doesn’t promote the hunt or shut Sammy down. 

“You can’t help me avenge your mother in your condition. You can’t come with me if you’re going to be a target for other Hunters. You’ll have to go to the school. But there you’ll be vulnerable to all the supernatural uglies, so don’t be stupid even though you’re out of the game.” Dad looks Dean square in the face— _No. No, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening_ —“Look after your brother. Here’s the address of where those two are staying, I called and told them you’d meet them there. The Impala’s yours, so you can leave as soon as you’re packed up.” _Oh God, oh God, please no._ Sammy’s gone absolutely silent. Dad hands Dean a piece of paper and Dean takes it automatically with numb fingers. “You listen to your brother Sammy.” Sammy chokes a bit and nods, Dean can hear it in the rustle of cloth. Dad takes one more look at the two of them, claps them on their shoulders in rough, half hugs, and leaves the apartment. Leaves Sammy and Dean standing in the middle of the quiet living room in the early evening light.

***

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic I originally posted on lj, just a little edited. There were other chapters but I kind of hate them now, so they will not show up here.


End file.
